My brother, Jason
by spnfandom8
Summary: "You're an asshole, you know that?" I tell him, scowling. "I am fully aware of my assholish tendencies Red, but this is not one of them, you, showed up to my apartment while I was sleeping, with the fucking Navy Cops. Does that really seem like a me problem to you?" he asks, running his hand through his hair tiredly.


One-Shot

**AN Hello and welcome to my one-shot! I hope you enjoy! :) **

"So why exactly are we going to see this guy? Nobody has ever gotten anything to stick, and we don't even think he's involved" Tony asks Gibbs, his voice rising in pitch as his nails dig into the armrests of his seat, looking fearfully over at Gibbs as he violently spins the steering wheel.

"Because he is, supposedly, in the know about everyone and what they are doing in that part of the city. We need names and he has them." Gibbs says, like as if he didn't just cut off three people and almost run over a civilian.

"Who?" I ask, pulling my head out of my phone as the last part of their conversation that I had tuned in for intrigues me.

"Jason Veil" Tony tells me, turning his head slightly to look at me before he rolls his eyes, his gaze having strayed to my phone.

I just nod, taking in the information before I freeze.

Jason Veil.

That's one of Jason's aliases.

"How do we know where this guy lives?" I ask, throwing up a mask of curiosity and burying my dread.

"Since you were still working on another case, we had another technical analyst find it, the guy apparently moves around a lot, but he was seen entering this apartment last night, and so far he hasn't been seen leaving." Tony tells me, and I just nod along to his words, playing the part of curious little computer nerd, while internally i'm trying to figure out how to warn Jason.

I pull a second phone out of my pocket, causing Tony's brows to furrow, sending me a questioning look, I ignore it in favor of trying to contact Jason.

I dial his number, waiting while it rings and he doesn't pick up, I try again, and again, until we arrive at the building where he apparently is.

"Fucker" I mutter under my breath, getting a few odd looks from my co-workers.

"Who?" Ziva asks

"Just a friend of mine, he was supposed to call me this morning but he didn't, now he isn't answering his phone. I wanna make sure he got home alright" I say, knowing that whatever they infer from that won't be anything that I can't play off of.

"Personal phone calls can be made on your own time McGee" Gibbs says, scowling at me.

I have the urge to glare back, but I know that nobody would appreciate that, so I refrain.

We're making our way up the dilapidated stairs a few minutes later, all of us spacing out just in case a stair breaks, which looks pretty probable, I know for a fact this is the exact kind of building that Jason would be crashing in.

He has nicer safehouses all across Gotham, but he also has the shitty ones for when he wants to lay low, either from us, or from the cops, and the ones he has in other cities, like D.C, are usually more on the falling apart side than the new one.

Gibbs is in the front when we get to his door, with literally everyone else in front of me, because no matter how much they fuck with me, I was apparently dubbed the baby of the team, and that hasn't changed one bit, much to my annoyance.

Being the 'baby' means that I am always in the middle, or in this case, the back, so that if someone were to shoot at us, I would be the last in the line of fire, for this one occasion though, i'm glad that i'm in the back, especially if it really is Jason that answers this door.

"The fuck do you want?" I hear a very familiar voice ask when the door is pulled open.

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS" Gibbs says, with what I know will be a blank expression on his face, and still, all I can see from behind the three of them is the top of Jason's head.

"Oh, well, in that case, come on in" Jason says in the fakest, sweetest voice imaginable.

I catch sight of him just before he sees me, and I roll my eyes when I do, he's wearing a pair of low slung black jeans, a gun holstered on his right thigh, with no shirt, his hair looks like a dog went through it with its tongue, sticking up in all directions, most of those directions seemingly defying gravity, and it isn't long before my eyes drift to the gun resting casually in his left hand, notably missing from it's holster on his left thigh in my earlier glance.

"The fuck Timmy?" I hear Jason ask as I walk past him and into his apartment, quickly looking around to make sure he didn't leave anything incriminating out.

After that I spin around, sending him a look telling him to shut the fuck up, not to blow my cover.

"Fuck that Red, I don't care about whatever you've got going on here" he says, indicating with his free hand towards the three people standing behind me in the apartment, and I watch as Tony flinches when Jason shuts the door loudly.

"Your an asshole, you know that?" I tell him, scowling.

"I am fully aware of my assholish tendencies Red, but this is not one of them, _you,_ showed up to _my _apartment while I was sleeping, with the fucking Navy Cops. Does that really seem like a me problem to you?" he asks, running his hand through his hair tiredly.

"I didn't know we were coming here until a few minutes ago, and I tried to call" I say, feeling the curious stares burning into my back.

"Whatever, do whatever you need to do, then go, I haven't gotten more than an hour of sleep in the last week" he mutters, holstering his gun as if he simply forgot that it was still in his hand.

"Do you have permits for those?" Gibbs asks, making Jason look behind me to answer him.

"Yep, open carry. Problem with that?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll need to see those papers" Gibbs says, making Jason roll his eyes and walk to the bed in the corner of the room, lifting the mattress and pulling a handful of papers from it, rifling through them before handing them to Gibbs.

"Would you put a shirt on?" I ask Jason irritably, wishing he would take this seriously for just a minute before we leave.

"Yeah, of course, anything for you Red" he says, his voice sickeningly sweet as he makes no moves to put on clothes in front his company.

"I can see what's going through that little head of your's Replacement, and no, I will not take this seriously, and I will not put clothes on for my _guests _to feel more comfortable around me, neither will I put my guns away, or anything else that isn't required by law or to get them off my ass" he says, the nickname and his words quickly skyrocketing my annoyance, making me take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.

"Why are you always such a fucking asshole?" I ask, still trying to calm my temper.

"I don't know, _replacement, _why are you always such a whiny little fuck?" he asks, and I can tell that his words were intended to cut, and they do, but I don't let him see that.

"If I was such a whiny little fuck, then why did B take me in and give me _your _mantle?" I ask, my temper throwing all thoughts of playing nice out the window, my hurt making me lash out at him in the same way, wanting to make him hurt.

I watch as rage contorts his face.

"You little fucking-" I cut Jason off, closing the distance between us until we are almost chest to chest, although the 3 inches between us makes it seem like i'm at a disadvantage.

"Little fucking _what _Jason? What insult do you have this time? Huh? What asshole thing do you wanna say next? How exactly would you like to fuck our relationship over this time? How much do you want to push me away? Far enough that the others will stop bothering you? Will stop treating you like family? Will stop caring_?_ _Good. Fucking. Luck." _I growl, inching closer and closer as I say each word, watching as he gets angrier and angrier, until he snaps.

"You have no idea what your talking about" he growls before his hand snaps around, I lean back just in time for his fist to sail past my face, mine doesn't miss though, settling into his stomach, making him take a step back.

"Shithead" he mutters, recovering quickly and launching himself at me.

"Fuckface" I mutter back, the air being pressed out of my lungs as Jason lands on top of me, attempting to pin me to the floor.

I flip us around with a simple move, putting him on the ground and me on top of him, he retaliates quickly, snapping a fist into my mouth and causing me to taste blood.

I follow up before my head is sitting straight again, sending my own fist into his eye, splitting the skin on his cheekbone.

He rolls us again then, using the weight he has on me to try and get me back on the bottom, which I prevent by continuing the momentum he caused, resulting in both of us on our sides, Jason sending an elbow into my ribs and me a knee into his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

I feel a rib crack as he sends his elbow into it again, and it breaks when he slams me into the floor, rolling on top of me with an angry look in his eye, I can't let something like that go unmatched, so I wriggle out from under him just enough to throw a knee into his balls, huffing out a laugh as he doubles over.

He recovers quickly though, and I get distracted when I caught sight of my team moving closer to us, probably to try and split us apart.

He gets the upper hand again, pinning one of my arms under my back this time as he pins me with his body weight, his right hand swinging down causes me to flinch, but all he does is grab the gun off his thigh, pointing it at my face.

I hear the team yelling, and I catch sight of Tony and Ziva with their guns pointed at him.

I ignore all of it.

In a move that I learned very soon after Bruce took me in, I grab his gun and turn it around on him, only to have him draw the other one, leaving us at a standstill, both of us pointing one of his guns at the others face.

"Get the fuck off me Jason" I mutter, dropping my head to the floor and sliding his gun back in it's holster from where I lay underneath him, trying to catch my breath.

We might not have moved past physical violence towards each other, but we did move past him trying to kill me, so I know that the gun doesn't actually pose any actual threat to me, our fight ended in a tie, so I simply put my gun down first, wanting him off of me so I can breathe properly, and get to a first aid kit.

He follows my instructions after a moment, a scowl still on his face as he pushes himself off the ground, bending over a moment later to give me a hand up, which I gladly take.

I do a quick headcount, making sure nobody left to call for backup, and when all I see are slightly lowered guns and confused expressions, I turn my attention back to Jason.

We stare at each other for a minute, neither of us moving or saying anything, just staring, me trying to figure out what goes on in my brothers head, and him, well, I just said I didn't know what goes on in his head.

"You do have a first aid kit here, right?" I ask a moment later, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, you need an ace bandage for your ribs?" he asks, and I can see through the nonchalance, he looks guilty as fuck for breaking my rib.

"Yeah" I mutter, standing a little straighter, hoping to ease the pain thrumming through my side.

He walks to his bedside again, this time pulling a shoebox out of his dresser before he walks past Tony to get back over to where i'm standing.

"Woah woah buddy, stop right there" Tony says, snapping out of his shock? Confusion? I'm not really sure, but he now has his gun trained on Jason's face, an angry look on his face.

"Nah, i'm good" Jason mutters, disarming Tony with a flick of his wrist before he continues over to me, flipping open the top of the box, he doesn't even look up when Gibbs and Ziva now also have their sights trained on him.

"He's fine guys, he's not gonna hurt anyone" I tell them, watching as their confused and skeptical looks are thrown my way.

"We got into a fight, he wasn't really gonna shoot me, just wanted to end the fight" I tell them, knowing that it might not do anything, even though I hope it does.

"That is not how you end a fight, you don't just pull guns on people unless you plan on shooting them. Jesus, he's a fucking psycho!" Tony says, once again holding his gun, having retrieved it from where Jason tossed it.

"Maybe, but I would also appreciate it if you would put your guns down" I tell them, putting more force behind my voice this time, pulling my shirt over my head as Jason waves his hand at me, silently telling me to do so.

"Why woul-... _Holy shit" _Tony says, cutting himself off, his eyes straying to my now exposed torso, which is _covered _in scars.

I watch as all three of them take in the knife wounds, the bullet scars, the burn marks, puncture wounds, the J carved into my left pec and the H.Q carved into my right, the brand that's basically right on top of my hip bone.

Their eyes stay glued to my torso as I turn for Jason to continue to wrap my ribs, giving them a view of my back, which is no better than my front, scars from a whip, and a huge X across my whole back from the Joker, he told me he was gonna tie me up and use it for target practice, Batman arrived before he could follow through on that threat.

There are the standard knife, bullet and burns as well, spotted through with a few unique scars that I know they won't be able to pinpoint how they were acquired.

I pull my button up back on without buttoning it, instead taking the first aid kit from Jason, I scowl when I see the now bloody bandage on his torso, and throw my undershirt in the trash can, Jason got blood on it, and I do not want to try and pull it back on with a broken rib.

I pull a stool up from his kitchen table and sit down in front of him, rolling my hand backwards, silently telling him to step closer.

I then peel back the now bloody bandage on his abdomen, glaring up at him as I see the busted stitches beneath, I throw the bloody bandage away, grabbing a small bottle of alcohol and cleaning the tweezers, needle and my hands before I move onto the gash, pressing my hand into his stomach to keep him still while I clean it out, taking out the busted stitches and throwing them away, tossing the tweezers as well before I grab the needle and thread, starting a line and finishing it about five minutes later, quick, neat, and clean, I open another sterile gauze pad, taping it into place over his stitches.

I then take a cotton ball, wet it through with alcohol, and press it into the cut under his eye, making him flinch and curse at me, I pull it away a moment later, swiping it over the cut once more to make sure it's clean.

He glares down at me before he grabs a new cotton ball, pouring alcohol over it before pressing it into my lip, making me flinch, although I hold back the 'fuck' that wants to break out of my throat.

"Rude" I mutter instead

"Retribution" he quips.

"You know Timmers, I just changed my mind, I think I will be joining you all for Thanksgiving this year, you can tell Dick that his invitation has been accepted." Jason says then, intending to irk me, but he is missing a part of the puzzle.

"You really think that Dick was the one who said we should invite you?" I tell him, my tone letting him know that he's wrong in that.

"Who the fuck else would invite me?" he asks, annoyance written on his face now, an although he's buried it, I can see the hurt that he's trying to hide.

"Me, you stubborn fuck" I tell him, annoyed that he still refuses to admit that we are family, that he's our brother, that Bruce will never not believe that Jason is his son, that Alfred loves him to death and just wants him to come home.

"I am _not_ the stubborn fuck in this family" Jason retorts, seemingly ignoring my previous words, but I can see that he's thinking through it, and I almost smile when I see the hurt ebbing from his eyes, a little bit of happiness replacing it, hesitant happiness, but happiness nonetheless.

"Yes you are, you might not be the _most _stubborn fuck, but you definitely inherited a few traits from dad" I tell him, watching as instead of anger at my words, amusement lights up his face.

"Maybe we all did" he says softly, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"What. The. Fuck. Tim?" Tony asks slowly, his eyes wide and his face showing just how confused over this entire situation he is.

"Um, sorry guys, this wasn't supposed to, um, happen. This is my brother, Jason." I tell them, sticking to the bare minimum and waiting to see what they infer from that, to see the easiest path to lead them on, whether that's the truth, or letting them believe that the McGee's have another son, it all depends on what questions they ask.

"Nothing says that you have a brother, or that your parents have another kid" Gibbs says slowly, apparently still processing this.

"I'm the hidden son, shipped off to a military school when I was young, then joined the army when I turned 17, dear old dad had no problem signing off on that one. I was a troublemaker, problem child, most likely due to, you know, neglect and such. Anyway, me and Timmy here have what you would call a, strained relationship. The perfect son and the black sheep. I was angry, still am sometimes, we have this tendency to work out our problems with violence, and i'll take the blame for that one, I started it. And I get it, assaulting a federal officer, bad, blah, blah, blah…" Jason says, trailing off as he packs up the first aid kit.

I almost smile as I realise he's done exactly what he told me he wouldn't, he covered for me, made up a backstory on the fly, one that will be easy enough for me and Bab's to create before the team goes digging.

"That, explains a lot" Ziva says, being the first one to holster her gun, the other two following suit, although more hesitantly.

"That doesn't explain everything though" Tony says, raising his eyebrows.

"What the hell happened to you?" Gibbs asks, knowing what Tony was talking about, and indicating towards my still exposed torso.

"I wasn't always Tim McGee, perfect son and geeky federal agent" I say, not expanding upon that statement, knowing it will drive them crazy that I don't, but not caring in the slightest, they don't need to know anything about that.

"That wasn't at all cryptic" Tony mutters, I ignore him.

"We are here about a case, we think you have some information that we need" Gibbs says then, apparently deciding to just focus on the job and ignore everything that just went down, which is fine with me, and Jason, apparently.

"What do you need?" he asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks at Gibbs.

"A name, Sylvia Henderson, do you happen to know if she was around here a few nights ago? We think she might have seen something" Gibbs tells him, and I can tell from the slight shifting of his stance that he knows exactly what he's talking about.

"Yes, she was witness to the murder that you guys are investigating, she was also being chased because of it. Her and her two kids are now safely across the country with new identities and enough money to get a good start in their new life. Nobody is finding them." Jason says, the defensive turn in his stance making me think that he knew them a bit more than other people he's done this for.

"We ne-" he cuts Gibbs off.

"I will anonymously send you the evidence that you need, everything is in there including a tape recording of Sylvia's testimony. You will not go looking for them, you will not blow their new identities, and you will not tip off _anyone _that they are gone, free, or safe. Am I being clear?" Jason asks, his voice now a growl that's being directed at all three of my teammates.

"As long as we get what we need, we won't have any reason to dig into them" Gibbs reassures, obviously not happy with being threatened, but he knows that it's getting him what he needs.

"How did you get into this man, I mean, whatever _this_ is? You were military, you aren't even thirty yet though and you now run most of the crime in this city, and from what we've heard, a lot of other ones, the first being a part of Gotham. Everyone is terrified of you, and you apparently also set up innocent people with identities and money to start their new lives, where you get that money, I have no idea. But man, it's a little confusing." Tony says, prying into this part of Jason's life, the Jason Veil part.

"There are lots of reasons for someone to end up like me, although I have a few circumstances that are unique, i'm not gonna bullshit you, I am fucked in the head. I have been for a long time, and i'm angry, and I have no problem hurting people that deserve it. But I have morals, I have principals, kids and innocents are to stay out of this shit. People who work for me know it, and those that don't listen, don't have a very _fun _life after that. It would take too long to explain how I am the way that I am, or how i've gotten to where I am in life, so you'll just have to live with the suspense." Jason tells him, turning around and dragging me into an impromptu hug and slipping a piece of paper into my hand as he does so, whispering that he changed his number, before he ushers us all out the door.

"I need some fucking sleep" he mutters as we walk past him.

"I'll see you for thanksgiving Timmers" he mumbles as I walk past him, closing the door behind us.

**AN **Thoughts? Good? Bad? Meh? Lemme know what you think. :)


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